NEGATIVE 

NO.  91-80357 


MICROFILMED  1991 
COLmiBIA  UXIVERSTTY  LIBRARrES/NEW  YORK 


as  part  of  the 

Foundations  of  Western  Civilization  Preservation  Project'' 


Funded  by  the 
NATIONAL  ENDOWMENT  FOR  THE  HUMANITIES 


Reproductions  may  not  be  made  without  pemiission  from 

Columbia  Universit}'  Library' 


COP^T^IGHT  STATEMENT 

The  cop\Tight  law  of  the  United  States  -  Title  17,  United 
States  Code  -  concerns  the  making  of  photocopies  or  other 
reproductions  of  copyrighted  material... 

Columbia  University  Library  reserves  the  right  to  refuse  to 
accept  a  copy  order  if,  in  its  judgement,  fulfmrnent  of  the  order 
would  involve  violation  of  the  copyright  law. 


AUTHOR: 


BRYCE,  JAMES 


TITLE: 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF 
GLADSTONE 


PLA  CE : 


BOSTON 


DA  TE : 


[1905?] 


i  V  i .  1 S  I  i 


^OI  TTMBIA  UNIVERSITY  T  mRARTF^ 
PKESEKVAllON  DEPARTMENT 

Mil LlOC^RAPHTr  MICIU  )i DRM  j  Ai^, 1 1 


r  Negative  # 


Original  Materinl  as  Filmed  -  Existing  Bibliographic  Record 


Restrictic_._ 


BKS/PROD   Books 
FIN  PN  BRYCE,  JAMES 

ID:NYCG91-B76441 
CC:9665  BLT:afn 


FUL/BIB    NYCG91-B76441 


Acquisitions 


NYCG~YG 


AND  TW  RECOLLECTIONS  ~  Cluster  1  of  1  -  Record  added  today 


CP:nyu 

PC:r 

MMD: 

010 

040 

050 

100 

245 

260 

300 

600 

LOG 

QD 


0 

10 
00 
0 

10 


RTYPza 
DCF: 
L:eng     INT: 
PD:1991/1905 
POL: 


DM: 


ST: 

P 

FRN: 

MS: 

CSC: 

MOD: 

SNR: 

GPC: 

BI0:b 

FIC: 

REP: 

CPI:0 

FSI: 

RR 

M 

COL: 

0 
0 


OR: 
0640544 
NNCt^cNNC 
DA563.8^b.B7 

Bryce,  James  Bryce,t^cViscount,t^dl838-1922. 
Recollections  of  Gladstonet^h[microf  orm]  . 
Boston, ^bP.  Mason  cofnpanyrc[1905?] 
31  p.^bfront.  (port.)^c20  cm- 
Gladstone,  W.  E.{:q(William  Ewart)  ,1:dl809-1898. 

RLIN 
08-26-91 


EL 
ATC 
CON 
ILC 
EML 


AD:08-26-91 
UD:08-26-91 


MEI:0 
GEN: 


11:0 
BSE: 


FILM     SIZE: .3ill^  '^ 

IMACF  PLACEMENT: 


'1i 


■•<: 


TECHNICAL  MICROFORM  DATA 

REDUCTIOM     RATIO:  [(    X 


FII 


lA   -JT^     IB     iiB 

7- .!•-  >  ^'"^l^^f^-^---^^ INITIALS        m  .  D.C 

'  '    iJESEARCfrPUBLICATIOM.q  TNC  WOnnRRmnR'rT' 


i.  i  .4  1. 


)  BY: 


I  It 


Association  for  Information  and  Image  Management 

1100  Wayne  Avenue,  Suite  1100 
Silver  Spring,  Maryland  20910 

301/587-8202 


Centimeter 


1 


1111 


¥f 


2 

! 


3 
! 


Inches 


4 
! 


5 
! 


8 


.l«M*\«#<»*0#B«»«*ll*liWi«l»*'lMB8l!aS»»ft»i^^  **«(3!«»8<=i4»i»rti 


iil 


kldj 


i 
2 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


I 
3 


10       11       12       13 

IiiiiIii'iIiii'IT'^" 


lllllllllllllllllllll 


14       15    mm 


i 

4 


IM      2.8 

2.5 

i^ 

IJ^     p-2 

2.2 

■  63 

,,               JO 

lr»               ^= 

Sf      1^ 

2.0 

1& 

»i      u 

b^ku 

1.8 

1.4 

1.6 

I 

5 


I 


iiiiiiiii 


MflNUFfiCTURED   TO   flllM   STflNDflRDS 
BY  fiPPLIED   IMAGE,    INC. 


"S 


^^ 


7^ 


Companion  Classics. 


Recollections  of  Gladstone 


BY  THE 


Right  Hon*  James  Bryce, 


Member  of  Parliament. 


i6z 


1 


I 


Perry  Mason  Company. 


1^: 


Companion  Classics. 


ARTHUR   HENRY   HALLAM, 

By  William  Ewart  Gladstone. 

A   BOY  SIXTY  YEARS  AGO, 

By  Hon.  Geo.  F.  Hoar. 

FAMOUS  AMERICANS, 

By  Hon.  Justin  McCarthy,  M.  P. 

RECOLLECTIONS  OF  GLADSTONE, 
By  The  Rt.  Hon.  James  Bryce,  M.  P. 


PRIOB.    to    OCNT8    KAOH. 


i 


Right  Hon.  James  Bryce,   M.  P. 


Companion  Classics. 


Recollections  of  Gladstone, 


BY  THE 


Right  Hon.  James  Bryce, 


1 


WITH 


Suggestions  on  Reading. 


REPRINT  FROM  THE  YOUTH'S  COMPANION. 


♦ 


Boston : 
Perry  Mason  Company. 


^T^HE  impression  which  a  great  man  makes 
^  upon  his  contemporaries — how  he  looked, 
walked,  taught,  thought  and  did  his  work — will 
always  have  a  freshness  of  interest  and  an 
historical  value  beyond  any  impressions  gathered 
or  recorded  by  those  who  come  after  him. 

The  pages  which  follow  present  one  of  the 
very  greatest  of  men  as  he  appeared  to  a  personal 
friend  and  fellow  worker,  the  Right  Honorable 
James  Bryce,  M.  P.,  a  writer  singularly  qualified 
by  temperament,  training  and  opportunity  to  set 
forth  the  personality  of  ''The  Grand  Old  Man." 

It  seems  fitting  that  this  happy  union  of  a 
great  subject  and  a  distinguished  author  should 
be  preserved  in  convenient  and  durable  form  ;  and 
that  to  it  should  be  added  Mr.  Bryce's  views  on 
a  matter  which  filled  a  great  place  in  Gladstone's 
life  as  well  as  in  his  own. 


<  k  > 


Recollections  of  Gladstone. 


any  list  that  could  be  made  of  the  five 
or  six  most  famous  men  of  the  generation 
which  has  now  just  quitted  the  earth, 
Mr.  Gladstone  would  find  a  place — a  place 
beside  Bismarck,  who  survived  him  a  few 
months,  as  well  as  Lincoln  and  Cavour, 
who  died  many  years  before  him,  but 
belong  to  the  same  generation.  There 
were  so  many  sides  to  his  character  and 
■^^***  such  a  wonderful  variety  in  his  powers 
that  it  would  be  impossible  to  convey 
an  adequate  idea  either  of  the  one  or  of 
the  other  within  the  space  of  a  short  article.  I 
have  made  a  study  of  them  in  a  little  volume 
published  in  America  in  the  summer  of  1898, 
and  will  not  attempt  to  repeat  here  what  was 
said  there. 

All  that  I  desire  to  do  in  the  few  paragraphs 
of  this  article  is  to  note  certain  aspects  of  his 
character  which  may  be  of  special  interest  to 
young  men  who  desire,  at  the  time  when  they 
are  forming  their  own  habits  of  thought  and  life, 
to  know  what  were  the  salient  traits  and  mental 
qualities  of  those  illustrious  ones  whose  names 
filled  and  occupied  the  world  when  they  were 
entering  it. 

What  most  struck  the  person  who  spent  a  few 
days  in  the  same  house  w4th  Mr.  Gladstone  was 
the  restless  and  unceasing  activity  of  his  mind. 
People  often  talked  of  his  industry  ;  but  industry 
rather  suggests  the  steady  and  dogged  application 


<;> 


8 


Recollections  of  Gladstone. 


which  plods  through  a  task  because  the  task  is 
set  and  has  got  to  be  despatched.  He  seemed  to 
work  because  he  liked  it,  or  perhaps  rather 
because  he  could  not  help  working.  His  energy 
was  inexhaustible,  and  when  he  was  not  engaged 
on  whatever  might  for  the  time  being  be  deemed 
business,  he  was  just  as  strenuously  occupied  in 
studying  or  writing  about  some  subject,  quite 
unconnected  with  his  regular  employment,  which 
for  the  moment  interested  him. 

His  Varied  Interests. 

Nearly    everything,    except    perhaps    natural 
science,  of  which  he  was  strangely  ignorant,  did 
interest  him.     Theology  and  ecclesiastical  history 
had  the  foremost  place,  but  general  history,  clas- 
sical archaeology,  poetry —  especially  the  Greek 
and  Italian  poets  — were  always  in  his  mind,  and 
books  about  them  might  always  be  seen  on  his 
table.      The  abundance  of  his  interests  and  the 
zest  with  which  he  indulged  them  were  a  great 
help  to  him,  for  they  ena])led  him  to  throw  off 
the   cares   of   politics,    and    they   distracted    his 
thoughts  from  the  inevitable  vexations  and  dis- 
appointments of  public  life.     It  was  his  practice 
when  he  returned  late  at  night  from  the  House 
of  Commons  after  an  exciting  debate  to  place  a 
light  at  the  head  of  his  bed  and  read  some  agree- 
able but  not  too  exciting  book,  often,   but  not 
always,  a  novel,  for  twenty  minutes,  after  which 
he  scarcely  ever  failed   to  have  a  good  night's 
rest. 

Sometimes  he  felt  the  activity  of  his  mind 
press  too  hard  on  him.  I  remember  one  misty 
evening,  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock,  to  have 
seen  his  remarkable  figure  a  few  yards  before 


Recollections  of  Gladstone.  9 

me  in  St.  James's  Park.  There  was  no  mistaking 
him,  even  at  night,  for  his  walk  was  peculiar, 
indeed,  so  peculiar  that  people  who  did  not  know 
him  would  turn  to  watch  him  as  he  passed  along 
the  street.  Thinking  it  hardly  safe  for  him, 
well  known  as  he  was,  to  be  alone  in  so  solitary 
a  place,  I  overtook  him  and  asked  if  I  might 
walk  by  him,  apologizing  if  I  should  be  disturbing 
his  thoughts. 

"My  wish,"  he  answered,  with  a  touch  of 
sadness,  "and  my  difficulty  is  to  avoid  thinking, 
so  I  am  glad  to  be  disturbed."  And  a  year  or 
two  later  he  told  me  that  to  rest  and  distract  his 
mind  he  had  formed  the  habit  of  counting  the 
omnibuses  he  met  in  the  space  of  three  or  four 
hundred  yards  between  his  residence  in  Downing 
Street  and  the  House  of  Commons,  so  as  to  see 
whether  he  could  make  an  average  of  them, 
based  on  a  comparison  of  the  number  that  passed 
each  day. 

Habits  of  Exercise. 

Unlike  most  Englishmen,  he  cared  nothing 
for  any  games  or  for  any  form  of  what  is  called 
sport.  As  a  youth  he  used  to  shoot  a  little,  and 
on  one  occasion  hurt  a  finger  so  badly  that  it  had 
to  be  cut  off  by  a  country  doctor.  It  was  before 
the  days  of  chloroform,  and  he  described  the  pain 
as  terrible.  Like  Sir  Robert  Peel,  he  was  very 
sensitive  to  physical  pain.  But  before  he  reached 
middle  life  he  had  given  up  shooting.  Nor  did 
he  ride.  Indeed,  his  only  form  of  exercise, 
besides  walking,  was  the  felling  of  trees  in  his 
park  at  Hawarden.  This  practically  restricted 
him,  except  when  at  Hawarden,  to  intellectual 
pleasures  for  recreation.     Sometimes,  however, 


/,> 


lO 


Recollections  of  Gladstone. 


he  would  play  whist  or,  more  frequently,  back- 
gammon, a  game  which  makes  very  slight  calls 
upon  memory  or  reflection. 

This  wonderful  activity  of  mind  did  not  seem 
to  spring  from  any  sense  of  haste  or  pressure  to 
get  through  one  piece  of  work  in  order  to  go 
on  to  something  else.  He  was  never  in  a  hurry, 
never  seemed  anxious,  even  when  the  time  was 
short,  to  finish  a  job  off  in  an  incomplete  way  in 
order  to  despatch  the  work  which  remained,  but 
went  straight  on  through  everything  at  the  same 
pace,  reminding  one  of  the  strong,  steady,  uni- 
form stroke  of  the  piston  of  a  steam-engine. 

Wise  Use  of  Time. 

I  remember  how,  having  once  called  on  him  by 
appointment  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
I  found  him  just  sitting  down  to  arrange  his 
thoughts  for  a  great  speech  he  had  to  make  the 
same  afternoon  at  a  crisis  in  the  Eastern  question. 
He  wished  information  on  a  point  that  happened 
to  be  within  my  knowledge,  and  besides  ques- 
tioning me  very  deliberately  upon  it,  talked  in 
a  leisurely  way  on  the  subject  at  large  as  if  he 
had  nothing  else  to  do.  At  five  o'clock  he  rose  to 
deliver  one  of  his  longest  and  finest  speeches, 
which  it  would  have  taken  most  men  days  to 
prepare  for.  However,  he  never  wanted  words ; 
all  his  care  was  to  be  sure  of  the  facts  and  to 
dispose  the  matter  of  a  speech  in  the  proper 
order. 

In  many  people  a  high  sense  o^  the  value 
of  time  produces  unpunctuality,  because  they 
desire  to  crowd  more  things  into  the  day  than 
the  day  permits.  It  was  not  so  with  him.  He 
got  rapidly  through  work,  not  by  haste,  but  by 


y 


Recollections  of  Gladstone. 


II 


extreme  concentration  of  his  faculties  upon  it. 
And  as  he  was  never  in  a  hurry,  he  scarcely  ever 
failed  to  keep  an  appointment. 

It  was  not  only  time  that  he  hated  to  see 
squandered.  He  disliked  waste  in  everything. 
Any  heedless  or  lax  expenditure  of  public  money 
displeased  him,  not  merely  because  it  increased 
the  burdens  of  the  people,  but  because  it  seemed 
to  him  stupid  and  wrong  —  a  sort  of  offense 
against  reason.  He  was  just  as  careful  about 
public  money  as  if  it  came  out  of  his  own  pocket. 

Dislike  of  Extravagance. 

Once  in  the  little  garden  behind  his  official 
residence  he  lamented  that  the  surface  was  all 
gravel,  saying  that  the  wife  of  his  predecessor 
had  caused  the  turf  which  had  formerly  been 
there  to  be  taken  away  for  the  sake  of  her  garden 
parties.  When  asked  why  he  did  not  have  the 
turf  put  back,  he  answered  that  it  would  cost 
too  much.  "How  much?"  He  named  a  sum, 
which,  to  the  best  of  my  recollection,  w-as  less 
than  two  hundred  dollars,  and  evidently  thought 
this  cost  more  than  he  ought  to  ask  the  country 
to  bear. 

He  used  to  express  surprise  at  the  modern 
English  habit  of  using  cabs  to  go  quickly  over  a 
short  distance  in  a  city,  contrasting  it  with  the 
frugality  of  his  contemporaries  in  his  early  days, 
when  vehicles  plying  for  hire  were  scarce.  Such 
vehicles  are  comparatively  cheap  in  London, 
where  one  can  go  two  miles  for  a  shilling  fare— 
a  quarter  of  a  dollar;  yet  the  constant  use  of 
them  seemed  to  him  a  mark  of  extravagance. 
His  eagerness  to  keep  dow^n  the  public  expendi- 
ture was  not  much  appreciated  by  the  people, 


«> 


12 


Recollections  of  Gladstone. 


for  during  the  last  thirty  years  public  opinion  in 
England  has  become  quite  careless  regarding  the 
raising  and  spending  of  revenue. 

This  dislike  of  all  needless  expenditure  accorded 
with  the  simplicity  of  his  own  life.  He  had  an 
almost  puritanical  aversion  to  luxury  in  dress, 
in  food,  in  the  furniture  of  a  house,  in  the  external 
paraphernalia  of  life,  and  never  went  beyond  the 
requirements  of  modest  comfort.  All  his  ideals 
were  of  the  moral  sort,  all  his  pleasures  of  the 
intellectual  sort.  Although  as  a  political  econo- 
mist and  a  financier  he  rejoiced  in  the  extraordi- 
nary growth  of  wealth  in  England,  he  saw  with 
disquiet  the  habits  of  luxury  and  the  tendencies 
of  thought  and  taste  which  wealth  brought  with 
it,  and  often  declared  that  the  humbler  classes 
were  far  more  likely  to  be  right  in  their  political 
opinions  than  the  rich  and  great,  notwithstanding 
the  advantages  which  education  ought  to  give  the 
latter. 


Political  Integrity. 

The  presence  in  the  legislature  of  men  really 
indifferent  to  political  issues,  but  seeking  to  use 
their  position  for  the  promotion  of  their  private 
pecuniary  objects,  filled  him  with  alarm.  To 
most  observers  it  does  not  seem  to  be  at  this 
moment  an  actively  increasing  evil  in  England. 
But  I  recollect  that  in  1897,  after  he  had  retired 
from  public  life,  he  dwelt  upon  it  as  the  greatest 
danger  that  threatened  parliamentary  institu- 
tions. His  pride,  which  was  great,  showed  itself 
in  his  high  sense  of  personal  honor  and  dignity, 
a  sense  so  high  as  almost  to  exclude  vanity,  any 
manifestation  of  which  he  would  have  thought 


f    I     » 


Recollections  of  Gladstone, 


13 


beneath  him.     It  never  appeared  in  the  inter- 
course of  private  life. 

No  one  was  more  agreeable  and  easy  in  con- 
versation. He  gave  unstintingly  the  best  he  had 
to  give,  and  gave  it  to  all  alike,  to  the  person  of 
least  as  readily  as  to  the  person  of  most  conse- 
quence. Although  he  talked  copiously  and  in  a 
somewhat  oratorical  fashion,  with  gestures  and 
modulations  of  voice  which  reminded  one  of  his 
speeches,  he  never  tried  to  absorb  the  conver- 
sation, and  was  always  quick  to  listen  to  any 
one  who  had  some  new  facts  to  give,  especially 
if  they  lay  within  the  lines  of  his  historical  and 
theological  interests.  His  respect  for  learning 
was  so  great  that  he  was  sometimes  imposed 
upon  by  people  who  professed  more  than  they 
possessed.  Still  greater  was  his  respect  for  the 
gift  of  poetical  creation. 

His  Intellectual  Tastes. 

In  a  remarkable  letter  which  he  wrote  after 
the  death  of  Alfred  Tennyson  to  the  poet's 
eldest  son,  the  present  Lord  Tennyson,  and 
which  is  printed  in  the  second  edition  of  the 
latter's  life  of  his  father,  he  expressed  with  char- 
acteristic force  his  sense  of  the  superiority  of 
the  genius  which  speaks  to  all  succeeding  ages 
through  immortal  verse  to  the  talent  of  the  states- 
man, whose  work  is  done  by  lower  methods  and 
for  his  own  time,  and  who  is  soon  forgotten. 
Poetry  and  philosophy  were  to  him  the  highest 
forms  of  human  effort,  and  philosophy  he  valued 
chiefly  as  the  handmaid  of  theology,  taking  —  so 
far  as  his  friends  could  discover  —  no  very  great 
interest  in  metaphysics  proper,  but  only  in  such 
parts  of  them  as  could  be  made  to  support  or 


4y 


14 


Recollectio7is  of  Gladstone, 


Recollections  of  Gladstone, 


15 


explain  morality  and  religion.  His  own  favorite 
philosopher  was  Bishop  Butler,  in  whom  he 
found  the  union  of  these  elements  which  he 
desired. 

Toward  German  metaphysics,  and  perhaps 
even  toward  German  literature  in  general,  he 
betrayed  a  slight  prejudice,  which  seemed  to 
spring  from  his  dislike  of  the  influence  German 
thought  of  a  skeptical  order  had  exercised  in  the 
days  of  his  early  manhood. 

Italian  poets  were  his  favorites,  next  after 
Greek  and  English  ones;  indeed,  he  sometimes 
seemed  inclined  to  put  Dante  at  the  head  of  all 
poets.  How  far  this  was  due  to  his  sympathy 
with  Dante's  theology  it  was  not  easy  to  deter- 
mine. He  would  not  have  admitted  it  to  be  so, 
although,  as  every  one  knows,  he  tried  to  dis- 
cover traces  of  Christian  theology  in  the  mythol- 
ogy of  Homer.  But  he  was  more  influenced  by 
likings  and  aversions  of  this  kind  than  he  himself 
realized,  being  by  no  means  what  people  call 
"objective"  or  detached  in  his  judgments. 
Moreover,  although  sincere  and  earnest  in  seeking 
for  truth,  his  mental  methods  were  really  more 
forensic  than  judicial,  and  he  seldom  delivered 
conclusions  which  had  not  been  more  or  less 
colored  by  the  feelings  of  sympathj'  or  repulsion 
which  made  him  unconsciously  adopt  a  view  and 
then  find  arguments  for  it. 

A  Sanguine  Leader. 

This  was  in  one  way  an  advantage  to  him  in 
public  life.  It  helped  to  make  him  sanguine. 
When  he  desired  a  thing,  he  found  it  easy  to 
deem  it  attainable.  Sometimes  he  erred  by  un- 
derrating the  forces  opposed  to  him.     But  on  the 


^        % 


whole  he  gained  by  the  cheerful  eagerness  with 
which  he  threw  himself  into  enterprises  from 
w^hich  less  hopeful  men  recoiled  as  impracti- 
cable. The  warmth  of  his  feelings,  although  it 
sometimes  betrayed  him  into  language  of  undue 
vehemence  in  denouncing  what  he  thought  unjust 
conduct  or  pernicious  principle,  did  not  make 
him  harsh  in  his  judgment  of  persons  or  unfair 
in  his  treatment  of  them. 

A  Keen  Judge  of  Human  Nature. 

In  private  he  discussed  people's  character  and 
capacities  very  freely.  Few  things  were  more 
instructive  than  to  sit  beside  him  and  listen  to 
the  running  commentary  which  he  would  make 
on  the  speakers  in  a  House  of  Commons  debate, 
noting  the  strong  and  weak  points  which  they 
showed,  and  delivering  estimates  of  their  respect- 
ive abilities. 

Such  estimates  were  sometimes  trenchant  in 
exposing  the  pretensions  of  showy  men,  who 
imposed  on  the  outside  world.  But  they  were 
hardly  ever  bitter.  Even  the  antagonists  who 
attacked  him  with  violence  or  spite,  forgetting 
the  respect  due  to  his  age  and  position,  did  not 
seem  to  rouse  any  personal  resentment  in  his 
large  and  charitable  mind.  Indeed,  his  friends 
often  thought  that  he  erred  on  the  side  of  in- 
dulgence, and  honored  by  elaborate  refutation 
persons  whom  he  had  better  have  dismissed  with 
a  few  words  of  contempt. 

I  cannot  recall  a  single  instance  in  which  he 
seemed  to  be  actuated  by  a  revengeful  wish  to 
punish  a  person  who  had  assailed  or  injured  him, 
but  I  recall  many  in  which  he  refrained  from 
opportunities  others  would  have  used.     How  far 


fy 


i6 


Recollections  of  Gladstone, 


Recollections  of  Gladstone. 


17 


this  was  due  to  indifference,  how  far  to  a  sense 
of  Christian  duty,  was  a  question  often  discussed 
by  those  who  watched  him.  Perhaps  it  was 
partly  due  to  his  pride,  which  led  him  to  deem  it 
below  his  dignity  to  yield  to  vulgar  passions. 

Tranquillity  in  Great  Crises. 

One  of  the  strange  contrasts  which  his  char- 
acter presented  was  that  between  his  excitability 
on  small  occasions  and  his  perfect  composure  on 
great  ones.  He  would  sometimes,  in  a  debate 
which  had  arisen  suddenly,  say  imprudent  things, 
owing  to  the  strength  of  his  emotions ;  would 
then  go  beyond  what  his  friends  had  expected, 
and  give  a  dangerous  opening  to  his  adversaries. 
At  another  time,  when  the  crisis  was  more 
serious,  he  would  present  a  perfectly  tranquil 
demeanor,  and  give  no  sign,  either  at  the  decisive 
moment  or  afterward,  that  he  had  been  holding 
his  feelings  in  the  strictest  control,  and  straining 
all  his  powers  to  go  exactly  as  far  as  it  was  safe 
to  go  and  not  an  inch  farther. 

At  such  times  his  easy  confidence  in  his  own 
powers  was  an  interesting  object  of  study.  Once 
in  his  later  life  when  a  question  of  great  delicacy 
and  difficulty  was  coming  on  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  and  everybody  expected  to  see  him 
watchful  and  alert  and  perhaps  fidgety  over  it, 
he  deliberately  composed  himself  to  sleep  on  the 
Treasury  bench,  and  enjoyed  a  refreshing  nap 
till  the  time  came  for  him  to  speak,  when  with 
no  apparent  effort  he  awoke,  delivered  a  speech 
in  which  he  said  exactly  what  was  needed  and 
not  a  word  more,  and  sat  down,  leaving  his 
opponents  so  puzzled  by  the  safe  and  guarded 
generalities  in  which  he  had  half-expressed  and 


\\ 


h   »    A 


half-reserved  his  views  that  the  subject  dropped 
in  a  short  time,  because  no  one  could  find  in  his 
words  anything  to  lay  hold  of.  It  was  often  re- 
marked that  the  greater  the  emergency  the  more 
composed  and  the  more  completely  equal  to  it 
did  he  seem. 

This  was  a  result  of  the  amazing  strength  of 
his  will,  which  enabled  him  to  hold  his  emotions 
in  check  and  summon  all  his  intellectual  re- 
sources into  the  field  whenever  he  desired  to  do 
so.  People  who  noted  this  strength  of  will  and 
saw  how  much  he  towered  over  his  colleagues 
assumed  that  he  must  be  self-willed  in  the  or- 
dinary sense  of  the  word,  that  is  to  say,  obstinate 
and  overbearing.  This  was  by  no  means  the  case. 
He  was  very  patient  in  listening  to  arguments 
from  those  who  differed  from  him,  and  not  more 
difficult  to  persuade  than  many  people  of  far  less 
powerful  volition. 

Yielding  to  the  Majority. 

Not  a  few  instances  could  be  given  in  which 
he  consented  to  acts  which  his  ow^n  judgment  dis- 
approved because  the  majority  of  his  colleagues 
were  inclined  the  other  way;  and  in  most  of 
these  instances  it  is  probable  that  he  was  right. 
He  used  to  refer  to  some  of  them  afterward, 
freely  condemning  some  of  the  acts  of  his  own 
government,  but  never,  so  far  as  I  can  recollect, 
taking  credit  to  himself  for  having  counseled  the 
wiser  course.  He  was  too  proud  to  indulge  in 
the  "I  told  you  so's"  of  smaller  men. 

The  force  of  his  will  showed  itself,  not  in  that 
tyrannical  spirit  w^hich  cannot  brook  resistance, 
but  in  the  unconquerable  tenacity  with  which 
he  held  his  course  in  the  face  of  obstacles  when 


■f> 


i8 


Recollections  of  Gladstone. 


he  had  made  up  his  mind  that  a  thing  must  at 
all  hazards  be  attempted.  It  was  a  part  of  his 
courage,  and  his  courage  was  magnificent. 


His  Physical  Courage. 

Physical  fear  was  unknown  to  him.  At  the 
time  when,  after  the  Phoenix  Park  murders,  he 
was  believed  to  be,  and  probably  really  was,  in 
danger  of  assassination,  and  shortly  afterward, 
when  several  attempts  to  kill  people  and  destroy 
buildings  by  dynamite  had  been  made  in  London, 
it  was  thought  necessary  to  guard  his  person, 
and  the  persons  of  some  of  his  colleagues,  by 
policemen  who  were  charged  to  follow  them  about 
everywhere.  This  protection  was  most  distasteful 
to  him,  and  although  to  please  his  friends  he 
generally  submitted  to  it,  he  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  occasionally  to  escape. 

There  is  a  back  way  out  of  the  House  of 
Commons  by  which  it  is  possible  to  get  to  the 
Thames  Embankment,  a  wide  and  lonely  thor- 
oughfare bordering  the  river,  the  view  from  which 
over  the  river  is  always  striking,  and  most  so 
just  before  sunrise  when  the  morning  star  flames 
up  above  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  and  the  dawn, 
brightening  over  the  city,  begins  to  redden  the 
broad  stream  beneath.  By  this  way  he  used  to 
pass  out  late  at  night,  eluding  the  vigilance  of 
the  police,  and  enjoy  a  solitary  stroll  under  the 
stars  before  returning  to  his  house,  indifferent  to 
the  dangers  which  others  feared  for  him. 

So,  too,  on  his- journeys  to  and  from  London, 
and  in  his  walks  round  Hawarden,  he  insisted 
on  reducing  the  precautions  taken  to  the  lowest 
point  that  his  friends  would  permit,  hating  the 


Recollections  of  Gladstone, 


19 


idea  that  any  one  would  attempt  to  harm  him, 
and  having  no  apprehensions  for  himself. 

The  circumstances  of  his  life  and  career  called 
more  frequently  for  the  exercise  of  moral  courage 
than  of  physical,  nor  is  there  any  career  in  which 
such  courage  is  more  essential  either  to  success 
or  to  a  man's  own  inward  peace  and  satisfaction 
than  that  of  a  statesman  in  a  popularly  governed 
country.  Whoever  enters  upon  such  a  career 
must  be  prepared  to  be  often  misunderstood 
and  still  more  often  misrepresented.  He  is  sure 
to  excite  enmities,  —  and  that  not  only  from 
opponents, — and  he  will  from  time  to  time  have 
to  face  unpopularity  if  he  obeys  his  conscience. 

The  Quality  Which  He  Most  Valued. 

In  an  admirable  speech  delivered  in  the  House 
of  Lords  just  after  Mr.  Gladstone's  death.  Lord 
Rosebery  referred  to  his  frequent  use  of  the 
word  "manly"  as  indicating  the  quality  which 
he  most  valued.  It  was  one  which  he  never 
failed  to  practise.  He  was  cautious,  carefully 
examining  beforehand  the  country  he  was  going 
to  traverse.  If  he  thought  the  risks  of  failure 
too  great,  he  might  choose  some  other  course. 
But  once  he  had  chosen  his  course,  no  threats  of 
opponents,  no  qualms  and  tremors  of  friends 
could  turn  him  from  it. 

Difficulties  rather  stimulated  that  wonderful 
reserve  of  fighting  force  which  he  possessed. 
None  of  his  colleagues  ever  heard  him  suggest 
as  a  reason  for  dropping  a  measure  or  recoiling 
from  an  executive  act  the  personal  attacks  to 
which  he  or  they  would  be  exposed.  It  was  a 
consideration  that  never  crossed  his  mind,  and 
this  became  so  well  known  to  those  who  were 


% 


I 


20 


RecoIlectio7i5  of  Gladstone. 


around  him  that  they  did  not  think  of  suggesting 
it  as  one  which  could  affect  his  action.  Although, 
as  has  been  already  observed,  he  was  impetuous, 
and  sometimes  threw  too  much  passion  into  a 
speech  when  he  had  become  excited,  this  courage 
had  nothing  to  do  with  his  impetuosity,  and  was 
just  as  manifest  when  he  was  weighing  a  question 
in  cold  blood. 

Mr.  Gladstone  had  his  deficiencies,  and  even 
his  faults.  No  one  who  knew  him  need  wish  to 
deny  them,  because  his  great  qualities  were  far 
more  than  sufficient  to  eclipse  them.  But  I  think 
that  those  who  studied  him  closely  in  private  as 
well  as  in  public  would  have  agreed  in  holding 
that  they  were  faults  rather  of  intellect  than  of 
character,  so  far  as  it  is  possible  to  distinguish 
these  two  things. 

His  High-Mindedness. 

It  was,  of  course,  chiefly  by  his  intellectual 
gifts  that  he  was  known  and  for  them  that  he 
was  admired.  Yet  that  which  seemed  most 
worthy  of  admiration  in  a  man  who  had  seen  so 
much  of  the  world,  and  might  well  have  been 
hardened  by  it,  was  the  freshness  and  warmth 
of  his  feelings  and  the  lofty  plane  on  which  his 
thoughts  moved.  In  discussing  a  subject  with 
him,  one  was  often  struck  by  the  tendency  of 
his  mind  to  become  fantastic,  to  miss  the  central 
point  of  a  question,  to  rely  upon  a  number  of 
fine-drawn  and  subtle  arguments  instead  of  one 
or  two  solid  ones.  But  if  an  appeal  was  made  to 
his  love  of  humanity  and  justice  and  freedom,  he 
never  failed  to  respond. 

He  hated  cruelty.  One  of  the  strongest  motives 
he  had  for  taking  up  the  cause  of  Irish  Home 


Recollections  of  Gladstofie. 


21 


Rule  was  his  horror  at  the  atrocities  which  had 
been  perpetrated  in  Ireland  at  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  He  would  often  speak  of 
them  with  a  sense  of  shame  as  well  as  anger, 
which  made  one  imagine  that  he  thought  some 
kind  of  expiation  for  them  required  from  Eng- 
land. It  was  the  same  loathing  for  cruelty  and 
oppression  that  made  him  in  1876-78,  and  again 
in  his  latest  years,  so  ardent  an  advocate  of  the 
cause  of  the  Eastern  Christians. 

Standard  of  Personal  Honor. 

He  had  a  very  strong  sense  of  public  duty. 
His  standard  of  personal  honor  was  high  in 
small  things  as  well  as  in  great,  and  I  may 
illustrate  this  by  saying  that,  extremely  ingen- 
ious as  he  was  in  debate  and  extremely  anxious 
to  prevail,  I  cannot  recall  an  instance  in  which 
he  knowingly  misrepresented  an  adversary's 
words,  or  used  an  argument  which  he  himself 
knew  to  be  fallacious,  although  these  are  the 
most  familiar  devices  of  parliamentary  contro- 
versy, devices  which,  censurable  as  they  certainly 
are,  are  used  by  many  men  deemed  fair  and 
trustworthy  in  the  relations  of  private  life. 

His  view  of  human  nature  was  always  chari- 
table and  even  indulgent.  Sometimes  it  was  too 
indulgent,  yet  this  is  the  better  side  on  which  to 
err.  The  memory  of  these  things,  and  of  his 
magnanimity  and  of  his  courage,  abides  with 
those  who  knew  him,  and  figures  more  largely 
in  their  estimate  of  his  worth  and  his  place  in 
English  history  than  does  their  admiration  for 
his  dazzling  intellectual  powers  and  his  tireless 
intellectual  energy. 


4) 


Some  Suggestions  on  Reading. 


lEVER  read  a  poor  book.  By  a  poor 
book,  I  mean  a  weak  book,  a  thin  book, 
a  book  in  which  the  facts  are  loosely  or 
inaccurately  stated,  or  are  ill-arranged, 
a  book  in  which  the  ideas  are  either  vague  or 
commonplace.  There  are  so  manj'good  books  in 
the  world,  and  we  have  so  little  time  for  reading 
them,  that  it  is  a  pity  and  a  waste  of  opportu- 
nities to  spend  any  of  that  time  on  the  inferior 
books,  which  jostle  us  at  every  turn,  and  often 
prevent  us  from  noticing  the  good  ones. 

Sometimes,  of  course,  it  happens  that  there  is 
no  first-rate  book  on  the  subject  one  desires  to 
study,  say  an  out-of-the-way  department  of 
history  or  of  science.  Then,  of  course,  we  must 
read  what  we  can  get,  a  second-  or  third-rate 
book  if  there  is  nothing  better  to  be  had.  But 
most  branches  of  knowledge  have  now  been 
dealt  with  by  strong,  clear,  competent  writers ; 
and  it  is  well  worth  while  to  take  pains  to  find 
out  who  has  handled  the  subject  best  before  one 
buys,  or  takes  out  of  a  public  literary,  a  treatise 
upon  it. 

In  the  higher  kinds  of  literature,  such  as 
poetry  and  philosophy,  the  maxim  that  one 
ought  to  spend  one's  time  upon  the  very  best  is 
still  more  true.  Whatever  else  young  people 
read  in  those  pleasant  days  when  the  cares  of 
life  and  the  calls  of  a  business  or  a  profession 
have  not  yet  closed  around  them,  they  ought 
to  read,  and  to  learn  to  love,  the  masterpieces 


Some  Suggestions  on  Readmg,  23 

of  our  literature,  and  especially  of  our  poetry, 
so  that  they  may,  for  the  rest  of  their  lives, 
associate  these  masterpieces  with  the  sweet 
memories  of  youth. 

If  they  know  enough  of  Greek  or  Latin,  of 
Italian  or  of  German,  to  be  able  to  enjoy  the 
great  classical  authors  who  have  used  those 
tongues,  so  much  the  better.  A  classic  who 
belongs  to  another  age  and  country  is  in  some 
ways  even  more  stimulating  and  impressive  than 
one  who  has  written  in  English,  or  one  who  has 
lived  near  to  our  own  time,  because  he  represents 
a  different  circle  of  ideas  and  enlarges  our  notions 
of  human  life  and  thought  by  describing  life  and 
conveying  thought  in  forms  remote  from  our 
own. 

The  Value  of  Foreign  Languages. 

If  you  are  fortunate  enough  to  know  Greek 
and  Latin,  read  the  writers  in  the  original. 
More  than  half  the  charm,  and  a  good  deal  of  the 
substantial  value,  is  lost  in  the  best  translation. 
It  is  better  to  make  out  the  original  even  slowly 
and  with  difficulty  than  to  hurry  through  it 
in  an  English  version,  although  sometimes  an 
English  version  may  be  used  to  help  one  over 
the  roughest  parts  of  the  road. 

If  you  do  not  know  the  ancient  languages, 
try  to  know  some  modern  one ;  if  you  have  not 
time  for  that,  give  yourself  all  the  more  earnestly 
to  some  great  English  writers,  and  especially  to 
the  poets,  because  they  put  fine  thoughts  into 
the  most  perfect  form,  which  it  is  more  easy 
to  remember,  and  which  becomes  a  standard  of 
taste,  whereby  one  may  learn  to  discern  the  good 
and  the  evil  in  the  literature  of  one's  own  time. 


t   > 


24  Soine  Suggestions  on  Reading, 

Those  who  find  that  they  cannot  enjoy  poetry 
must,  of  course,  content  themselves  with  prose ; 
but  the  best  prose  will  not  do  as  much  for  mind 
and  taste  and  style  as  good  poetry  does. 

Acknowledged  Masterpieces. 

Some  one  may  say  that  the  advice  to  read  only 
the  strong  books  and  eschew  the  weak  ones  is 
hard  to  follow,  because  how  is  a  young  man  or 
woman  to  know  from  their  titles  which  books 
are  the  best  in  the  subject  he  or  she  desires  to 
study?  This  objection  does  not  apply  to  the 
masterpieces,  for  every  one  agrees  that  Shake- 
speare and  Milton  and  Wordsworth  and  Keats 
and  Bacon  and  Burke  and  Scott  and  Daniel 
Webster  and  Macaulay,  not  to  speak  of  the  men 
of  our  own  time,  whose  rank  has  not  yet  been 
conclusively  settled,  have  taken  their  place  as 
great  writers  whom  an  educated  person  ought  to 
know.  But  I  admit  that  it  does  apply  to  the 
books  which  any  one  who  is  interested  in  history, 
or  in  some  branch  of  natural  science,  or  in  social 
or  political  or  theological  inquiries,  will  desire 
to  peruse. 

In  these  departments  of  knowledge  there  are 
comparatively  few  books  that  have  reached  the 
rank  of  classics ;  and  as  they  are  more  or  less 
progressive  departments  of  knowledge,  the  stu- 
dent naturally  desires  to  find  a  recent  book, 
which  will  give  him  the  latest  results  of  investi- 
gation. 

How,  then,  is  he  to  know  the  best  recent 
books  ?  He  cannot  trust  advertisements  and 
press  notices.  He  might  as  well  believe  an 
epitaph. 

In  these  circumstances  the  youth  ought  to  ask 


^     I    « 


Some  Suggestions  on  Readifig,  25 

the  advice    of    a    person    conversant    with   the 
subject.      If  he   is  or  has  been  a  student  at  a 
college,  let  him  ask  his  professor.     If  he  has  not 
that  chance,    he  is  almost  sure  to  know   some 
person  who  can  either  give  him  light  or  get  it  for 
him  from  some  other  quarter.     If,  however,  he 
knows  no  one  likely  to  be  able  to  help  him,  'and 
applies  to  a  stranger  who  is  a  recognized  author- 
ity    on    the    subject, —enclosing    an    addressed 
envelope,   so  as  to  give  the  authority  as  little 
trouble  as  possible,— he  is  pretty  certain  to  have 
a  friendly  and   helpful  reply.      Those  who  are 
fond  of  a  subject  are  almost  always  willing  to 
help  other   students  less  advanced  than  them- 
selves,  if  they  see  reason  to  believe   from   the 
student's  letter  that  he  is  a  bona  fide  applicant, 
and  not  merely  an  autograph-hunter. 

The  Place  of  Fiction. 

The  same  principles  apply  to  fiction  as  to 
other  books.  There  is  plenty  of  good  fiction  in 
the  world,  and,  indeed,  in  the  English  language 
alone ;  quite  enough  to  occupy  so  much  leisure 
as  fiction  may  fairly  claim ;  and  it  is  folly  to 
read  thin  or  vapid  or  extravagant  fiction,  while 
leaving  the  better  romances  or  novels  untouched, 
merely  because  they  are  not  of  our  own  immediate 
time. 

Happily  we  have  enough  good  fiction  of  our 
own  time  to  enable  any  one  to  "keep  in  touch," 
as  people  say,  with  modern  taste,  as  well  as  to 
know  the  best  that  the  past  has  given  us.  By 
good  books  of  fiction  I  mean  books  w  hich  enlarge 
one's  knowledge  of  human  nature,  either  human 
nature  generally  or  the  human  nature  of  some 
other  age  and  country,— like  a  vigorous  historical 


i    > 


26  Some  Suggestions  on  Reading, 

romance,— books  which  contain  impressive  pic- 
tures of  character,  or  striking  dramatic  situations, 
books  which  sparkle  with  wit  or  wisdom,  or 
whose  humor  sets  familiar  things  in  a  new  light. 
We  have  at  least  nine  English  writers  some 
at  least  of  whose  works  belong  to  this  cate- 
gory—Richardson, Fielding,  Miss  Austen,  Miss 
Edgeworth,  Walter  Scott,  Dickens,  Thackeray, 
Anthony  Trollope,  George  Eliot,  — not  to  speak 
of  living  writers,— while  one  or  more  of  the  tales 
of  Miss  Burney,  of  Fenimore  Cooper,  of  Wash- 
ington Irving,  of  Disraeli,  of  Meadows  Taylor, 
possibly  of  Bulwer,  also,  may  deserve  to  be 
placed  in  the  same  category. 

If  we  add  foreign  novelists  whose  works  have 
been  translated, —  for  a  novel  loses  far  less  by 
translation  than  a  poem,— the  list  of  powerful 
works  of  fiction  available  in  our  own  language 
might  be  almost  indefinitely  increased.  Not  all 
these  writers  can  be  called  classics,  but  from  all 
of  them  much  may  be  drawn  which  an  active 
mind  will  appropriate  and  find  permanently 
enjoyable. 

Permanence  of  Impressions. 

A  second  maxim  is  to  try  to  carry  away 
something  from  every  book  you  read.  If  a  book 
is  worth  reading,  it  is  worth  remembering.  One 
cannot  remember  everything  ;  and  to  each  person 
the  things  worth  remembering  will  differ  accord- 
ing to  his  tastes  and  the  amount  of  insight  he 
brings  with  him.  But  every  one  may  carry 
away  something,  and  may  thus  feel  that  the 
book  leaves  him  to  some  degree  richer  than  it 
found  him ;  that  it  has  helped  him  to  add  to  his 
stock  in  trade,  so  to  speak,  of  facts  or  of  ideas. 


Some  Suggestiofis  on  Reading.  2^ 

If  it  has  not  done  this,  why  should  one  have 
spent  so  much  eyesight  upon  it  ?  Why  not 
have  given  the  time  to  bicycling  or  baseball,  or 
have  lain  down  upon  the  grass  and  watched 
white  clouds  flit  across  the  sky? 

How  to  remember  the  contents  of  a  good  book, 
or  at  least  the  best  part  of  them,  is  a  difficult 
problem,  and  one  which  grows  more  difiicult  the 
older  one  grows,  for  the  memory  is  less  retentive 
in  middle  life  than  in  3-outh,  and  the  pressure  of 
daily  work  in  a  profession  or  in  business  tends 
to  clog  the  free  play  of  intellectual  movement  in 
spheres  distinct  from  that  work.  The  most 
obvious  plan  is  to  make  notes  of  the  things  that 
strike  you  most.  This  involves  time  and  trouble, 
yet  the  time  and  trouble  are  not  lost,  for  the 
mere  effort  of  selecting  the  salient  facts,  or  of 
putting  into  a  concise  form  the  salient  ideas, 
helps  to  impress  them  on  the  mind,  so  that  they 
have  more  chance  of  being  remembered,  even 
should  the  notes  be  lost. 

If  the  book  belongs  to  you,  it  is  not  a  bad 
device  to  use  the  blank  sheet  or  two  which  one 
often  finds  inside  the  covers  for  making  brief 
notes,  adding  references  to  the  pages ;  or  if  there 
are  no  blank  sheets,  to  paste  in  two  or  three  and 
use  them  for  this  purpose. 

The  Value  of  System. 

Methodical  habits  and  no  small  measure  of 
perseverance  are  needed  for  such  a  system.  I 
have  myself  tried  it  only  to  a  very  small  extent, 
and  have  consequently  forgotten  a  great  deal  I 
should  like  to  have  remembered ;  but  I  know^ 
those  who  have  steadily  worked  upon  it,  and 
w^ho   recommend   it  warmly.      They   say,   with 


i  > 


28  Some  Suggisfioris  on  Reading. 

truth,  that  it  forces  one  to  think  as  one  goes 
along,  that  it  keeps  the  mind  active  instead  of 
passive,  that  it  helps  one  to  discover  whether  the 
author  has  really  anything  to  say,  or  is  merely 
putting  off  one  with  words. 

Then   further,    it   is   generally  better  to  read 
upon  some  regular  lines  rather  than  in  a  purely 
desultory   fashion.      To  have  a  fresh  curiosity, 
alive  to  all  that  passes  in  the  world  of  letters  or  of 
science,  is  no  doubt  good  ;  but  to  try  to  read  even 
the  few  best  books  in  more  than  a  few  branches 
is  out  of  the  question.     The  field  of  knowledge 
has   now  grown   too   wide   and   too   much    sub- 
divided.     For  most  of  us  the  safer  plan  is  to 
choose  some  one,  or  at  most  some  two  or  three 
subjects,  and  so  direct  our  reading  as  to  concen- 
trate it  upon   them,   and   make  each  book   we 
study   help    the    others,    and   carry    us   further 
forward  in  the  subject. 

Know  One  Subject  Well. 

To  know  even  one  subject  pretty  thoroughly 
is  a  great  gain  to  a  man.  It  gives  him  something 
to  think  about  apart  from  his  daily  occupations. 
It  forms  in  him  the  habit  of  sound  criticism, 
and  enables  him,  even  in  subjects  with  which  he 
has  only  a  speaking  acquaintance,  to  detect  im- 
posture,  and  discover  when    a  writer   is   really 

competent. 

The  suggestion  that  reading  should  not  be 
desultory,  nor  take  too  wide  a  range,  does  not  of 
course  mean  to  exclude  poetry  and  fiction  from 
any  one's  reading.  So  little  good  poetry  appears 
from  year  to  year  that  the  time  needed  to  read  it 
is  but  small ;  while  fiction  is  read  so  rapidly  that 
it  does   not   interfere  with   the   pursuit  of  any 


Some  Suggestions  on  Reading. 


29 


other  regular  line  of  study  for  which  a  man  may 
find  that  he  has  a  taste. 

What  I  wish  to  dissuade  is  the  notion  which 
some  men,  and  more  w^omen,  entertain,  that  it  is 
the  duty  of  a  person  of  cultivation  to  try  to  read 
all,  or  even  a  large  proportion,  of  the  books  of 
importance,  or  reputed  importance,  that  are  from 
time  to  time  published  on  various  topics.  There 
is  no  use  trying  to  do  this. 

Knowledge  at  First  Hand. 

Read  the  works  of  the  great  authors  before  you 
read  criticisms  upon  them.  Let  them  make  their 
own  simple  impression  on  your  mind ;  and  only 
after  they  have  done  so,  read  what  other  people 
have  said  about  them.  If  the  book  is  sufficiently 
important,  and  you  have  time  enough,  you  can 
afterward  plunge  into  the  comments  and  criti- 
cisms, or  may  study  the  life  of  the  author,  and 
see  what  w^ere  the  conditions  which  helped  to 
mold  him.  But  the  main  thing  is  to  read  him 
in  the  first  instance  with  your  own  eyeS}  and  not 
through  some  one  else's  spectacles. 

Sometimes  it  is  better  not  to  read  much  about 
the  personal  life  of  an  author.  He  may  have 
put  the  best  of  himself  into  his  books,  and  the 
record  of  his  private  history  may  diminish  the 
strength  of  their  impression.  There  are,  of 
course,  some  pieces  of  criticism  by  eminent 
writers  upon  other  writers  which  are  themselves 
masterpieces,  and  ought  to  be  read  by  whoever 
wants  to  know  how  to  comprehend  and  judge 
works  of  imagination. 

Whoever  desires  to  retain  through  life  the 
habit  of  reading  books  and  of  thinking  about 
them  will  do  well  never  to  intermit  that  habit, 


i   N 


30 


Som^  Suggestions  on  Reading, 


not  even  for  a  few  weeks  or  months.  This  is 
a  remark  abundantly  obvious  to  those  whose 
experience  of  life  has  taught  them  how  soon  and 
how  completely  habit  gains  command  of  us.  Its 
force  cannot  be  realized  by  those  who  are  just 
beginning  life,  when  an  unbounded  space  of 
time  seems  to  stretch  before  us,  and  we  feel  a 
splendid  confidence  in  the  power  of  our  will  to 
accomplish  all  we  desire.  The  critical  moment 
is  that  at  which  one  enters  on  a  business  or  a 
profession,  or  the  time  when  one  marries. 

Lifelong  Benefits. 

Those  who  are  fortunate  enough  to  keep  up 
the  practice  of  reading,  outside  the  range  of  their 
occupation,  for  two  or  three  years  after  that 
moment,  may  well  hope  to  keep  it  up  for  the 
rest  of  their  lives,  and  thereby  not  only  to 
sustain  their  intellectual  growth,  but  to  find  a 
resource  against  the  worries  and  vexations  and 
disappointments  which  few  of  us  escape.  To 
have  some  pursuit  or  taste  by  turning  to  which 
in  hours  of  leisure  one  can  forget  the  vexations, 
and  give  the  mind  a  thorough  rest  from  them, 
does  a  great  deal  to  smooth  the  path  of  life. 

How  is  a  business  man,  or  one  engaged  in 
such  a  profession  as  law  or  medicine,  to  find  the 
time  for  systematic  reading?  One  way  is  to 
spend  less  time  in  reading  newspapers  and 
periodicals  than  most  people  now  spend.  News- 
papers no  doubt  contain  a  vast  mass  of  useful 
information.  I  have  often  been  astonished  at 
the  quantity  of  readable  and  instructive  matter 
to  be  found,  for  instance,  in  the  Sunday  editions 
of  the  leading  New  York  and  Boston  and  Chicago 
daily  papers.     So  there  is  a  vast  mass  of  good 


Some  Suggestions  on  Reading.  31 

writing  in  the  magazines.  The  trouble  is,  to 
use  a  familiar  phrase,  that  one  cannot  possibly 
remember  what  one  reads  in  these  miscellaneous 
piles  of  information,  first  because  one  skims 
through  them  in  a  quick,  unreflective  way ; 
secondly  because  each  article  drives  the  article 
before  it  out  of  one's  uead. 

Careful  Discernment. 

The  use  of  reading  is  to  be  measured  not  by 
the  number  of  lines  of  print  over  which  the  eye 
has  travelled,  but  by  the  force  of  the  stimulus 
given  to  the  mind  and  the  amount  of  knowledge 
carried  away.  In  the  case  of  the  newspaper 
the  stimulus  is  feeble,  because  one  reads  in  a 
light  and  listless  fashion  whatever  has  not  a 
direct  business  interest,  while  the  information, 
as  already  observed,  is  too  large  and  too  multi- 
farious to  be  retained  by  the  most  powerful 
memory  for  more  than  a  few  hours.  It  runs  out 
of  the  mind  like  water  through  a  sieve. 

So  one  of  the  most  useful  habits  a  young  man 
can  form  is  that  of  learning  rapidly  to  select  and 
pounce  upon  those  items  of  news  in  a  paper 
which  are  either  of  great  general  importance  or 
specially  significant  to  himself,  and  to  let  the 
rest  go  unread.  He  will  miss  some  things  he 
might  like  to  have  seen,  but  he  will  gain  far 
more  by  having  time  available  for  other  purposes. 
The  maxim  of  the  famous  Roman,  that  one  must 
be  willing  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  some  things, 
seems  truer  and  truer  the  longer  one  lives,  for 
experience  teaches  that  it  is  more  profitable  to 
do  and  to  know  a  few  things  well  than  many 
things  badly. 


R  EDUCT  J  ON 

RATIO 

CHANGE(S) 

WITHIN 


^.. 


«.M»}tiifm','-'»m''^,'.--f-'m'immtait.^m^-"  v^sm  -■"■».«■*  #*'?i  it  ^  ■ 


T 


im  ^im 


.V 


Knedliol"      iw  \   ,    r 


I    I 


vt»n 


I£N 


•> 


n^itder  neuesten  Strassenbezeichnung.      ^q^-^' 


son 


CARL   GEROLDS     SOHN 

NVIKN    1»73. 

Naclidcn  bestt'n  Oiieiini  bf.irbei(«l 


7/1/D 


\'  u  n 


H  e  i  II  r  i  v  h   0  r  a  v  c 

JiiqtMi  icu  r  II  Arch  1 1  eU  I 

*         ~- —  '    '  I        —  'Or    t.       /  T 


?    »•    ^ 


hrcrUiurm    ffT.-in^ 


^x:J 


ri^ 


J.SA|« 


y\ 


'•TTTI 


"\ 


■1   Si 


\\ .  ... 


<" 


'  ^ 


'  %  -1 


^^SSm 


l^t^<^l^^"7^^=^^ 


^' ;"'^ 


-r'TTueclit  fust  611.    ;■*  , ^^^-^'C^^^^j—- 

^.--.""^^  H,  "i^^n^--  v^y^--/  ^*^=^^.r- 


'  <>^>f . 


■_~s  ^^.) 


.n 


^rtJ 


'-Irro 


*»v 


air'i 


/ 


LJ  ! 


l; 


V>  ■;^<?   *^x: 


?$-      V 


-^      f  II   %  111*1    iiV  ■>       r      _  -  — ^  •i-"*—'  vJV   ;^ 


u  l- 


iimbAJLini(> 


u — xnr-      / 


>^- 


^.V<^" 


r^^-IJbfM  • '  f  i.JJZ|^^. 


El 


I' I*'.'  icr 


Vlalt 


V»> 


ED 


t..^**' Morris. "y  /  ^V       ItJ"^'  i  I  — .  . 


c:n 


TlOi 


1    .  J     ' 


'•»  W 


1c;i 


f  i;» 


'l,.h 


If-' 


\\\ 


^' 


nr^- 


^"r^'x 


>.-j 


^ 


'7 


7c.i,'^u/./: 


riM 


uu 


^.n  r~i 


^ 


FTH?  S-ITn— ^SS7^1  i_l 


r'5- 


JO _J    I — I   t 

■T5~T   1    d   ♦•  n      Pas?'- 

^  r  i^         ■      ""1 


'5^ 


^-^ 


i^Lj 


^  J*  I'  1 1 , 


V  J  >■ . 


'-% 


7  .2  ^ -J  >/  >^ 


o.^  -     ^ 


.^/  ~M.y  ^~-  ><^^  -^ 


\'k 


'•^4 


:*••*•-  /  Iky 


^^'>:'^'//.o  «/^^     if     ^, 


'-  ■-.'f- 


vs 


■-I' 


^ 


■^r^A 


^^ 


^' 


1^  i^-//^:^ 


^V  ■<>><< 


^-4 


:?n 


> 


■It  '*■'•%: 


>b^^ 


'i^.  ^C) 


^^^^.^ 


^'*/. 


i»- 


^     x-s- 


^(•"(trtfl.. 


» 


A 


% 


% 


A 


'^'. 


%/ 


<>< 


.^.^v-' 


-T-^ 


-^'^^:^ 


,^  y\o> 


V 


J  w^ 


€ 


> 


'J^. 


V<1 ' 


/-^/ 


^r 


taT  i> 


> 


5j:;^-y^> 


rt:^^ 


P 


w.^  It 


I — if  --^7 


t... 


O 


\ 


J  \  > 


<  s 


.\' 


x^ .    . . 


■f% 


/; 


JC- 


— "%      -^^ 


:|5 


,.   |— — f*  n^  >, 


--^' 


;»/  '  A 


o 


-c» 


^^ 


-^^-T  ^ 


t^ 


i>  >> 


-V-i — 


c:"> 


3^ 


Uarkt  pi  .1 


rv- 


A 


/N 


TT^ 


13 


( 


Lifh    Ali.st    \    I*  Kckc    III  ^V|r;i 


-J.- 


► 


4 
/ 
/ 

/ 

J 
/ 

7\ 

.  i   III  ill 

A  r  i  n  i 

\ 

Wm.'- 


The  Youth's  Companion, 
An  Illustrated  Family  Paper. 

$1.75  A  YEAR. 


Published  at 

201  Columbus  Avenue, 
Boston,  Massachusetts. 


**^ 


The  Companion  Library 

IS  a  collection  of  stones,  travel-sketches  and  descriptive  articles, 
complete,  exact,  and  so  interesting  as  to  meet  the  need  of  all  who 
want    -a  book  for  the  leisure  hour.  "    It  is  made  up  from  the  works 
ot  some  of  the  best  writers  for  The  Youth's  Companion. 

The  Library   comprises  the  following  volumes,  each  containiriK 
sixty-four  pages,  illustrated  and  bound  in  heavy  paper  co\ers : 


No.  1.     Stories  of  Purpose:  Bravery,  Tact  and  Fidelity. 

No.  2      Glimpses  of  Europe:  Travel  and  Description. 
No    3      The  American  Tropics:  Mexico  to  the  Equator. 

No.  4.     Sketches  of  the  Orient:    Scenes  in  Asia. 
No.  5.     Old  Ocean :  Winds.  Currents  and  Perils. 

No.  6.     Life  in  the  Sea:  Fish  and  Fishing. 
No.  7.     Bits  of  Bird  Life  :   Habits,  Nests  and  Eggs. 

No.  8.     Our  Little  Neighbors :  Insects.  Small  Animals. 
No.  9.     At  Hdme  in  the  Forest:  Wild  Animals. 

No.  1(    ^^    Alaska :  Animals  and  Resources. 
No.  11.     Am     ^^  iie  Rockies:  Scenery  and  Travel. 

No.  12.     In  the  Southwest:  Semi-Tropical  Regions. 
No.  13.     On  the  Plains:  Pioneers  and  Ranchmen. 

No.  14.     The  Great  Lake  Country  :  A  Land  of  Progress. 
No.  15.     On  the  Gulf:  Attractive  Regions  of  Contrasts. 

No.  16.     Along  the  Atlantic :  New  York  to  Georgia. 
No.  17.     In  New  England:  The  Home  of  the  Puritans. 

No.  18.    Stories  of  Success :  Skill,  Courage,  Perseverance 
No.  19.     Stories  of  Kindness :  Examples  for  Rich  and  Poor. 

No.  20.     Student  Stories:  Life  in  School  and  College. 


i 


Price  K)  Cents  Uach,  Post-paid. 


PERRY   A\ASON  &   COA\PANY.   Publishers, 
aoi  Columbus  Avenue.  BOSTON,  MASS 


[over] 


V 


EVERY   SCHOOL      :  : 

PUBLIC   LIBRARY    •:-       -:•       •:•  •:• 
YOUNG   PEOPLE'S   LIBRARY 

SUNDAY-SCHOOL   LIBRARY  : 

SHOULD  HAVE  THE  FOLLOWING  VOLUMES  : 

By  I/and  and  Sea. 

A   Hook    <►(    Ti'jivi'l  and    IJt'soa  rcli   in   riitainiliar  IMact-s.  t-oii- 
taiiiiniz    The  <  oinpanlon   Lil)rai*>'  N<»s.  "J,  .\,  I  and  't. 

Talks  About  Animals. 

A   Kook  of  IntiM-t  >t  iny   Fads  in   Natural   li  istory.  containintr 
Tlif  (  uniitanioM    IJI»rar\    N<».  <».  7,  S  iind  J>. 

Our  Country :  West. 

SctMit's  in  tlu'  Nt'wcr  Portions  of  (lir  I'nitfd  states,  fontain- 
inji    111*'  <  onipanion   Library   Nos.    lO.    I  ly- I'i  mul    l.'J. 

Our  Country:  East^ 

'I"lu>   i:arlit-.t    Sftlli'd   UtjiioU"^  <»(  I  In-  liiiltMl  stal«--.  i-ontaiii- 
iiiii'  'l"lu'  (onipanioM    lJ!)rar\"    Nos.    I  I.    I.">.    1  (>  and    17. 

Purpose  and  Success. 

Sonit'  of  the    Ilriyrhti'sl    (  onipanion    stories,  i-ontainin^    llic 
(  onipanion   lalirary   Nos.    I.    IS.    ID  and  "JO. 

I'ricf.  .~>f   Cents  li.-ich.   Prcpnid 

COMPANION   CLASSICS: 

Artliur  Henry  Ilallani.  I»y  lion.  U  illiani  K.  <;ia<lston<'. 
.V  Hoy  sixty  Years  Ajro,  l»y  lion.  (ieo.   F.  Hoar. 

Famous  Anu'rieans,  by  Justin   M<(  artliy.  M.  I*. 

Price.   lO  Cents  Unch 
Cnrresixitidencc  Solicited   with   Lihrnrintis  ;in<l  liooksclUrs. 

PE;rRY   mason  &   CO.,  Publishers, 

aoi  Columbus  Avenue,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


lOVHW] 


